Before The Storm
by thesoundofsunshine
Summary: She couldn't help but think of the quote: If it's meant to be, love will find a way.


**I don't much to say about this, except that I hope you enjoy this oneshot.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the song used in the chapter which is Before The Storm by Miley Cyrus and Nick Jonas.**

It was a frigid, overcast December morning. New York City was bustling with people running to get to work, catch the bus, hail a cab, etcetera. Mitchie Torres was no exception. Her boots were pounding the pavement as her messenger bag slapped against her side, and she watched out for ice patches on the sidewalk. It would be her first time in a real recording studio since she got signed to the label in September after her stint at Camp Rock which was a place she wished to forget about.

She pushed her body weight into the glass door as she was greeted by a rush of warm, comforting air of the studio. She walked over to the desk with a woman was sitting, sipping her coffee, and tapping away at the keyboard. Mitchie loosened her jacket, no longer needed to protect her from the elements.

"How may I help you?" The woman asked, finally noticing Mitchie's being standing in front of her desk.

"I'm looking for Walsh," Mitchie coolly said with a smile. The woman nodded, and her nails clacked away at the keyboard.

"Mitchie Torres," The woman said, as Mitchie nodded her head, confirming her name, "He's waiting for you in studio B."

"Thank you," Mitchie said as butterflies exploded in her stomach. She was excited to record her first single in a real studio. She wondered, and hoped, that the feeling would be there every time she came to the recording studios.

Mitchie stopped in front of Studio B, checking for the red light which was off, before she pushed open the door. The nerves were nearly driving Mitchie into an insane delirium. Walsh extended his hand, which Mitchie gladly shook.

"Alright, Mitchie, let's get started, shall we," Walsh said, as he offered her a seat on the couch, which she took after she expelled her jacket from her body. The Studio door opened, and in walked her most feared person. The excitement quickly wore off as it was replaced by bubbling heartbreak.

"Hey, Walsh, remember how we set my time in the studio for today?" He asked, ignoring her all together. He couldn't, wouldn't, bring himself to look back on the worst summer of his life.

"That's not fair," Mitchie said, finding her voice, "I've had this time slot since September. It was the only opening."

"And, now it's taken," He sardonically said with a smirk that infuriated her. He could see it in her face as the fury rose, but he knew she wouldn't do anything about it.

"Let me see the songs, maybe I can fix them into a duet," Walsh said, as if he had just thought of the most brilliant idea. Both looked skeptical at the idea.

"No," He refused to be in the same confined space as her. He never wanted to see her face again, hear her voice, let alone be enclosed with her aroma and charismatic personality.

"Here you go," Mitchie said with a smirk as she handed over her song from her bag. She felt like an evil genius handing the tear stained pieces of paper to him with lyrics, bars, and everything. Caitlyn had helped her compose a beautiful melody for her to sing along with.

"What are you doing?" He asked, confused and pissed at her willingness to do a duet. She wouldn't look him in the eye as he was throwing daggers into the back of her head.

"The opposite of you," Mitchie said, knowing that he wouldn't have the guts to do a duet with him. Walsh already had her song, so he'd have to forfeit the room to her.

"Fine. Here," Shane said, handing his song over to Walsh. He knew that she wouldn't be expecting him to go through with the duet idea.

"Alright, just give me a bit to piece these two songs together," Walsh said, as he left the room. He was surprised when he realized putting the songs together would be easy enough because the message was the same.

Mitchie established herself on the couch in Studio B with her notebook to fuel creativity. She had in her headphones to blast out anything that he might say to her. She doodled in her notebook with her pen, writing pieces of songs, inner thoughts, whatever popped into her head.

He moved into Walsh's chair, ignoring her being. He positioned himself for his back to be facing her. He didn't bring anything with him to entertain him during the spare time; he wasn't planning for a waiting period. Instead, he was trapped inside his own over thinking head.

"Alright, it's done," Walsh busted into the room only an hour later. He slipped a chip into the sound board as the both of them snapped out of their own little worlds. Walsh ushered the both of them into the soundproof booth with the sheets of lyrics, as both became encompassed by their sneakers.

Music started to fill the room as Mitchie noticed the guitar part of her song; she assumed that the drum past had to be his. She skimmed over the lyrics, taking in what weren't her written words. Once she finished, she realized the entire song might as well be hers.

He read over the words that weren't thought of by him as Walsh started pumping music into the room. He knew it was the drum part Jason had made for him, but he wasn't sure where the guitar melody had come from. Once he finished going over the lyrics, he realized that the words written by her, might as well have been his.

"Alright, you two see the highlighted parts on your lyrics sheets, those are the parts you sing. The highlighted and bracketed parts are when you sing together," Walsh briefly explained, as he watched them put on their bulky headphones. He flicked on the red light as they cautiously stepped closer to the microphone.

Mitchie fiddled with the hem of her shirt, needing something to occupy her nerves. She glanced sideward at him with a weak smile, but she didn't expect him to be staring right back. It was like those moments in elementary school when you're swinging so high on the swings, and everything drops away except the movement in your tummy.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh, needing something to keep him from going insane. He glanced sideward at her with his lower lips pulled in between his teeth, but he wasn't expecting him to be looking right back. It was like those moments on tour, when everything comes together seconds before the show begins.

"Alright, 16 counts in and Mitchie starts. Then, follow the sheets. Take one, run through," Walsh said, as he watched each other them take a deep breath. He pressed play for the music to start playing through their headphones.

"I know this isn't what I wanted. I never thought it'd come this far. Just thinking back to where we started, and how we lost all that we are," Mitchie sang as he voice filled the room, and his headphones. She tried to not subconsciously slip into a teary, reminiscing state that the song always brought her to.

"We were young and times were easy, but I could see it's not the same. I'm standing here, but you don't see me. I'd give it all for that to change," He sang, trying to not to think back to Camp Rock where the song sprouted from, "And, I don't wanna lose her. I don't wanna let her go."

"Standing out in the rain, need to know if it's over cause I will leave you alone," Mitchie sang, praying that she could make it through the song before a mental breakdown occurred from the heartfelt lyrics.

"Flooded with all this pain knowing that I'll never hold her like I did before the storm," He sang, letting every emotion tied to this song gush out, "With every strike of lightning."

"Comes a memory that lasts," Mitchie sang, reveling in the breaking feeling that was happening in her chest. She would leave every emotion that this song contained right here on the Studio B floor.

"Not a word is left unspoken, as the thunder starts to crash," The both of them sang, their voices mixing as beautifully and easily as their heartbreak did.

"Maybe I should give up," Mitchie sang, forcing herself not to think about the time after she left Camp Rock, "I'm standing out in the rain, I need to know if it's over cause I will leave you alone."

"Flooded with all this pain knowing that I'll never hold her, like I did before the storm," He sang, trying not to get himself all teary eyed in front of her. He was stronger than that.

"Trying to keep the lights from going out," Mitchie sang, as the music swelled, matching the swelling feeling in her heart.

"And the clouds from ripping out my broken heart. We always say a heart is not a home, without the one who gets you through the storm," Their voices combined with such a passionate force that it left Walsh speechless, "Standing out in the rain, knowing that it's really over, please don't leave me alone. Flooded with all this pain knowing that I'll never hold you, like I did before the storm."

Walsh didn't know that to do with this. The first run through was so powerful, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to provoke the same emotion from them. It was a rough copy, but he didn't want to touch it. This would be his finished project, and most likely one of his favorites.

"Like I did before the storm," The both of them finished off the song, allowing the music to end before taking off their headphones.

"Brilliant," Walsh said, turning off everything in the studio, "Come out here."

He allowed her to leave the room ahead of her to show how much he had changed. He had become a calm, gentleman after those anger management classes. He watched her sit down on the couch, trapped in a fog of memories.

She left the studio ahead of him because he had allowed her to. She collapsed on the couch, as he stood by the door, as memories swirled around in her mind. Those memories overtook everything else around her, leaving her nowhere to escape herself.

"I know this never happens, but the first run through was simply magnificent. There is no need to go over it again, or fix verses. It was beautiful," Walsh said, noticing that he wasn't really getting through to either of them, "Anyway, I will call you within the week for a little meeting with the three of us to go over releasing it and all."

Mitchie's mind fast forwarded through the happy memories, pushing them aside, for the tragic one. She was stuck on the time it all crashed down at their feet. The last day of Camp Rock before they both went their separate ways after the most memorable summer either one of them would have. He was infuriated with his band mates deciding that it would be best for him to attend anger management classes to control his out lashes.

His mind was a landmine of memories, both good and bad. He focused on the ones involving her, specifically the end of them. He opposed anger management classes suggested by his band mates. He opened the floor for her opinion, to which she agreed. Thinking back on it, he should have just taken the classes, and then he never would have lost her. His rage was boiling up until he exploded, in the form of his fist making contact with her face.

"Hey, you two are free to go," Walsh said after watching them sit in their own personal stupor for five minutes. They both looked up at him, sad, remorseful before getting up. He threw on his jacket, taking deliberate time to zipper and button it closed. She shrugged on her coat, tying the belt tightly around her waist. She threw her messenger bag over her shoulder, getting ready to face the elements.

"I'll be waiting to hear from you," Mitchie said to Walsh with a smile. She was hoping the next time he contacted her, it would be for her private recording time, sans intruders and duets.

"See you later, man," He said, quickly running out the door after realizing that she had left already. He sprinted down the hallway and out the front door. He frantically looked around, not letting her escape again. His face dropped once he realized that she was nowhere to be found.

Mitchie walked out of the lobby bathroom, and out into the now light flurry of snowflakes. She saw him looking particularly defeated standing by the curb facing the street. She watched as he turned around and his face lit up. She tried to get her feet to move, but her heart wouldn't let her.

Each step towards her felt as if more and more of the world was slipping away from him. Once he was close enough to feel her radiating body heat, the rest of the world, hell, the rest of the universe didn't exist. The hustle and bustle of New York City was at a standstill.

"I really have to go," Mitchie said, as her heart screamed excuses excuses. She didn't want to leave him here, but she knew it was the best. Her feet started pounding the pavement to trek back to her apartment.

"I've been going to anger management classes like you suggested," He said, not allowing her to walk away from him. She turned around, surprised at his remark. He stepped closer to her, "I'm getting help."

"That's good," Mitchie softly said, laying a cold hand on his arm for support. She looked up at his searching, sorrow filled eyes that matched her weak smile.

"I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with Jase, Nate, and I tonight," He said, bearing it all, "We were gonna walk through Times Square."

"I'd like that, Shane," Mitchie said, finally saying his name for the first time since she cursed him the week after her second year of camp ended. It was a horrible experience, dropping someone you loved out of your life.

Shane let out a genuine smile, "Good. You living with Cait?" – Mitchie nodded – "She can come, too. We'll be by around seven to get you guys."

"Okay," Mitchie said, still reeling at the fact that she had come to terms with him, and put what happened behind them.

"I'll see you at seven then," Shane said, as she nodded. He watched her figure recede into the New York City rush of people. He even saw her glanced back at him over her shoulder. He couldn't help but feel completely forgiven.

As Mitchie walked away from Shane and the studio, she left the incident stomped into the floor of Studio B. She stole a glance back at his small figure, and saw him looking right back. She couldn't help but think of the quote: If it's meant to be, love will find a way.

**Please review with any thoughts, ideas, constructive criticism. Thank you!**


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